


Weird Summoning

by Zoop (zoop526)



Series: Orcs in the Modern World [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cosplay, F/M, Language Barrier, Light Bondage, Middle Earth Uruk Falls Into Modern World, Occasional Use of Black Speech, Science Fiction Convention, excessive pop culture references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:45:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1505897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoop526/pseuds/Zoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern woman falls into Middle Earth... whoops, scratch that. If you thought it sucked for a modern gal to get thrown into Middle Earth, it's no comparison to the suckage a Middle Earth Uruk summoned into *our* world experiences. Rated for the audacity of taking an Uruk to a sci-fi convention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At Least There Were No Bras on Their Heads

Dargum chafed as the vast horde flowed inexorably toward the fortress. The army was advancing too slowly for his tastes. Would he ever reach the fucking walls? He could just see them in the middle night's darkness, shining wetly from the pouring rain, but he had to wait until the crossbowmen weakened the defense some more. Meanwhile, his brothers were dropping like bricks all around him, felled by arrows that found the chinks in their armor more often than not. He'd felt one ricochet off his breastplate already, leaving a divot behind.

He wanted to get up there, climb one of the ladders they were raising, do his part, but he still had at least fifty yards yet to cover before he could. There were so many of his brothers, they hindered their own advance. All he could do was fill the air with his roared challenges, magnified by thousands of throats. He was not the only impatient one.

Stepping over the corpses of his brothers with little regard, Dargum firmed his grip on the broadsword he held. It still glistened with horselord blood from the battle at the Fords, and he longed to lick it clean, have even a little taste to drive his bloodlust as he neared the walls. _No. Save it._ Above on the ramparts, there were many more to slay, blood to spill, sweet flesh to carve – the flesh of their younglings, fat and succulent – and fucking. Master promised there would be fucking, for his agent told of ripe females seeking refuge in the keep. His loins quivered with anticipation. A greater boon than a thousand severed yellow-haired heads, a thousand still-beating hearts, dripping with that sweet red draught. Rewards fit for a Fighting Uruk-hai.

Finally, the tide pushed him up to a ladder, and he swiftly climbed, only to be stopped dead halfway up by the chokepoint at the top. Too many going up, not enough space to land in. But his predecessors were making up for it, at great cost. Twice he was nearly dislodged by falling bodies. As the area around the top of the ladder slowly cleared, those climbing up sped their ascent. Dargum rumbled with satisfaction and trembled all over.

Once he was on the ramparts, the hard-won territory seemed to be shrinking already. Horselords were closing in; Dargum swung his broadsword wide, catching one of them in the throat. The spray of blood hit him in the face and he paused to taste. _Not too much, now. Plenty of time, much to be done._ Another approached and engaged him before he could climb completely over, so that he was poised with one foot on the top rung and the other on the stone battlement. A precarious position that made him nervous; it had been a long climb, and the seething ground was far away. He would fight to the death for his brothers, but he also knew that if he fell on them from the top of the wall, they would rip him to pieces without concern for which side he was on. Brothers they may be, but such considerations were often forgotten when the heat of battle was hottest.

He could accept that. They were his brothers, after all.

A second horselord seemed more accomplished with his blade than the last, and Dargum stepped up his assault from the unsteady perch, one hand gripping the ladder for balance. But suddenly the wood he held in a death grip shifted a couple of feet, and he instinctively froze and stiffened, attempting to rebalance himself. In that brief moment, the horselord thrust his sword deep into Dargum's hip between breastplate and thigh guard.

Roaring in pain and shock, the Uruk wavered. It was the leg that was still on the ladder, and now his balance was even more compromised. The horselord may have laughed cruelly as he rushed forward to push his enemy backwards. Dargum couldn't tell. What was certain was that he was falling from the ladder, the pain in his leg surprisingly strong enough to make him groan, but nothing compared to what awaited him below. Fixing his eyes on the cloud-choked sky, he fancied that the rain falling straight down on his face looked like spears thrown from the heavens.

* * *

"Your turn, Biz," Todd pointed out unnecessarily as he lounged against the wall. Eying the green-skinned woman, he pushed his horn-rimmed glasses back up his nose. The gorgeous and amazingly accurate Orion Slave Girl costume was only slightly marred by the big red ribbon pinned over her left breast, and the sneakers. Orange sneakers. Lovely effect.

Biz was quite accomplished at sewing costumes, and had outfitted them all on several occasions over the years. The theme for this particular science fiction convention get-together was _Star Trek,_ original series, and she'd whipped up a very convincing Vina costume from the pilot episode, _The Menagerie_. Thankfully, she had the figure for it; the cut of the dancing girl's dress left her mid-section exposed as well as her long legs. Though the original series skimped on cleavage this one time (probably because the captain wasn't Kirk), Biz decided that highly provocative seducers were more likely to bring out the big guns, and 'modified' the costume appropriately. The green fabric shimmered in the lights of the convention center, still blazingly bright even this late at night.

Rich was decked out in a strange combination of old style Klingon officer's dress uniform, with _Next Generation_ era Klingon facial features. To all complaints about the incongruity of his ensemble, he said, "Suck it." Todd opted for the standard security guard motif, reasoning that even the tamest of cons required a Red Shirt.

Working her jaw a bit as she chewed the inside of her mouth, Biz looked closely at her hand. _If I put down the efreeti, he'll need one of those dispel thingies to counter it_ , she mused. In truth, having only picked up the game that afternoon in the vendor hall, she wasn't quite sure what beat what just yet. Over the last hour, though, she'd at least learned respect for the _Dispel Summoned Creature_ card, as it had thwarted several of her attempts to bring her tougher beasts into the fray. But honestly, how many of those effing things would be in each sealed deck anyway? She was pretty sure only four. There had to be a limit, or the game would suck. And the booth guy _swore_ it didn't suck. He even demoed it with them, and it failed to suck at least enough to inspire her and her four college buddies to all buy their own decks. Hers, of course, was loaded with Orcs. She made damn sure of that. Orcs and one or two efreeti, apparently. What the hell? Who built this deck? She played the card and waited for the inevitable counter measure.

"Ah, fuck," Rich moaned, shoulders sagging. "You're such a bitch."

"Eat it, _Dick_ ," she chirped pleasantly.

" _Rich_ ," he reminded her absently as he rethought his next play. "Better read the chant or I'll call you on it."

Sighing, Biz leaned forward and read the nonsense words printed on the trading card.

" _Ee cheh mah tor doe PAH!_ " Smirking at her foe, she said, "Chew on _that_."

Rich tried to scratch the bridge of his nose, but was once again thwarted by the Klingon forehead prosthesis still glued to his face. "Damn. Look, I know we're trying to do a theme here, but the costume contest ended like five hours ago. Can I take this fucking thing off?"

Biz waved absently, her attention back on her hand. The card she drew to replace the one she played was a high level Orc. _Finally_. The card art was hideously bad, but the stats might make Rich cry like a little girl. _That_ would be awesome.

"You guys still on the same game?" Doogie asked as he and Alex arrived with arms full of Chinese take-out boxes. Because he'd gone back to med school and was an EMT, Doogie wore the standard blues of the medical branch of Starfleet, while Alex, ever the trend-setter, gave in to peer pressure and settled for a large-craniumed Talosian, though his heart was initially set on a Horta. Biz patently refused to assemble a scuttling lava monster costume for him.

To spare the folks at the take-out restaurant a fright, Alex left his foam head at the hotel.

"Yeah, just waiting on Rich to go down gracefully," Todd replied. Gesturing toward his own discard pile, he added, "I got muscled out early. Did you get my crab rangoon?"

"Double order," Alex smirked as he sat down, carefully arranging his shimmering silver robe. "Cause I know you're selfish as all hell."

"Give it over," Todd said, extending a grasping hand. Alex handed the container across to him.

As Rich worked to peel off the silicone ridges, Biz dug into her dumplings. "God, I miss Ming's," she murmured between mouthfuls.

"Nobody does it like Ming the Merciless," Doogie agreed, savoring the still steaming egg drop soup. "Hey, wrap this crap up so we can get in, all right?"

"As soon as Rich makes himself pretty," Biz said with a shrug.

"Ha ha," he said witheringly. "Do I still have eyebrows?"

Alex stifled a laugh. "Yeah. Sort of."

"God _dammit_ ," Rich swore, rubbing the raw skin over his eyes.

"Break's over," Biz cut in. " _R_ _é_ _pondez, s'il vous pla_ _î_ _t_ , yuh wimp."

"Here you go," Rich said, slapping a card down. " _Sil dom fo_. And follow _that_ up with _Do va too_. How do you like _them_ apples, huh?"

"Really? You're coming after me with _spells_? Pussy." Biz shook her head. "Take _this_! _Ahm dee pokh el REE_!"

"Ladies, please, tone it down," Doogie admonished. "Gonna have security after us."

"Boy needs schoolin'," Biz suggested. "All right, what now? Piddling your drawers? Hit me with your best shot."

Rich looked over his hand, including the two new draws. _Oh, you bitch. Got you._ Smirking, he gently laid down _The Vile Sorcerer_ boss card. " _Eel fo mahk day sah deh mee._ "

"Holy crap," Alex whispered in awe as he read the card's stats. "Sodomy is right. Got something to counter that, Biz?"

In truth, she didn't. Not even the high Orc card she'd been so happy to draw could be played against this boss by itself. She'd have to have at least two more Orcs of the same strength to counter it. Son of a bitch.

But it was something like two in the morning and she was feeling a bit punchy. Smirking, she turned and dug in her swag bag, producing the mint-in-box action figure she'd wrestled a Romulan to get a hold of. "Nothing beats the Uruk-hai," she said, dropping it with finality on top of Rich's card. Then she stood up.

Her friends sat around somewhat awestruck watching her, though they'd been looking at her in this costume all day. Some of the green makeup on her skin was worn or rubbed off in places. The shine was off the chassis, so to speak, but a good deal of the chassis was still nice to look at. When she wore a costume like this, she _became_ the character, and right now, she was Vina dancing for Captain Christopher Pike.

" _Skaat izgu,_ _Uruk durbûrz_ ," she purred, slithering around the circle of men, undulating wantonly, her eyes fixed on the action figure in the center of the circle. " _Mauk izgûr, Uruk. Az dushatâr izgûr, Uruk. Throqu ishu-_ _izub, agh âdhn-it narash!_ "

Caught up in the moment, Biz continued to dance like a dervish, her movements becoming more frenzied. Long brown hair whipping about her, she repeated the words over and over, and with each repetition she became more breathless and excited.

There was something happening. She didn't know what it was, but she could feel something surging through her. Adrenalin? Was she so giddy from lack of sleep she could get high from a little silliness like this? It felt good, whatever it was, and she fed it fiercely, spinning and writhing to music only she could hear. Then there was an explosion ten feet above the floor.

Something dark appeared out of nowhere and fell like a ton of bricks in the center of the circle.

The sound of the impact – sort of a metallic clang and rattle, accompanied by an odd crunching noise – startled Biz right out of her... trance? What the hell _was_ that? Gasping for breath, she looked at the body. Her mind just could not grasp what she was seeing.

Her friends scooted back in a panic, putting several feet of distance between themselves and... whatever it was. Doogie was the first to speak for several moments.

"What... the _fuck_... is _that_?" he breathed hesitantly, craning his neck to see.

Swallowing hard and trying to calm herself, Biz took a step closer.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "It looks like..."

Then it twitched. It shook its helmeted head and groaned. It started to roll over, perhaps attempting to rise.

"Shit!" Alex cried, realizing he was near the thing's head. "Hold it down!" Leaping forward, he pushed the creature onto its back and threw himself across its torso. Rich and Todd shook themselves to action and jumped on its legs.

It may have been momentarily stunned by the fall, but now it was coming to its senses remarkably fast. Only half its face was covered by the helmet; Alex got a front row seat to a mouth full of jagged yellow teeth and _very_ long lower incisors, worse than staring into a really big dog's mouth.

The creature roared like a lion with a zookeeper up its ass. While Rich and Todd had its legs pinned, Alex was having a hard time against its arms. "Dammit, Doog! Stop gawking and get over here!"

In the end, it took all four of them piled on top of the creature to even come close to subduing it, yet it still bellowed like a wounded beast and struggled against them.

"Crap! Rope, we need rope," Doogie huffed. Unable to think clearly, Rich reacted on auto-pilot. He shifted his weight and freed a hand, then dug in his pocket. Finding what he sought, he pulled it out and offered it to Doogie.

"Really?" the exasperated paramedic grunted. "A _True Dungeon_ token? Get your head out of your ass!"

Biz shook herself and rifled the nearest bag, which happened to be Rich's. She pulled out a black Cthulhu t-shirt and started ripping it into strips.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Rich yelled, his voice strained, his lucky token lost in the fray.

"We need to tie him up," she replied. "Consider this payback for the token, dickless." Focusing on the task at hand, she was able to forget for a second... just a second... Good god, what had she done?

"That cost me twenty bucks!" he protested.

"I'll owe you," she snapped. Tying the ends to one another, she made a couple of long strips of cotton poly-blend ready. "Turn him over. Get his arms behind him."

Flattening the creature took a lot out of the woefully out of shape geeks. Turning it onto its stomach while still maintaining some measure of control over it nearly lost them their grip. The creature stepped up the fight, adding snapping jaws to the equation for any who came within reach.

It could only be described as a cluster fuck. Todd took a metal-shod foot to the gut when they tried to flip the creature over; Rich got a kick in the face. Alex and Doogie had to stretch its arms over its head to manage turning it over, and that only brought them too close to its gnashing teeth. Biz hastily untied and shed one of her shoes, peeled off a thick woolen sock, and stuffed it into the creature's wide-open maw.

Silence didn't quite result, but at least its noise was reduced to gagging and choking as it struggled to push the obstruction out. The teeth were at least taken out of the picture, to Alex and Doog's relief.

Settling the creature flat, its head turned to the side, the two on his torso made room for Biz. She worked quickly, criss-crossing the fabric several times around the wrists to ensure a secure restraint. While she was at the wrists, Rich and Todd used a second strip she'd tossed them to tie the ankles.

Though bound face down, and bearing the weight of Alex and Doogie across its back, the creature still fought them. When it caught sight of Biz, however, it went still.

She was just as stunned. Slowly kneeling at its head, she leaned close, staring at its face.

"My god," she breathed. " _Look_ at him. Do you know what he _is_?"

A tense calm descended. Doogie took a shuddering breath and immediately regretted it. "Ah man, he smells like gym class," he said, wrinkling his nose.

Now it hit them all. The creature was utterly filthy. Sweat, dirt, and excrement mingled with what appeared to be rain, giving it a filthy-wet-dog-mixed-with-unwashed-sweaty-man-with-no-basic-personal-sanitation-skills sort of stench. Even Biz had to take a step back to snort her nostrils clear, and she at least had some sympathy for the poor bastard.

"Okay, Miss Expert," Rich grumped as he caught his breath. "What _is_ he?"

"He's an _Orc_." Her voice was filled with awe as she slowly removed the helmet from his head. She hesitantly reached out to touch his face. Flinching, the Orc's yellow eyes flicked from her hand to her eyes uncertainly. His heavy brow was bunched with confusion and growing panic. " _Â_ _mul_ ," she said softly as she stroked his leathery cheek. " _Kul quiil_."

He frowned even more and blinked without any sign of comprehension.

"My god, he's _beautiful_ ," she whispered, drinking in the mottled black skin, the broad flat nose, thin lips, pointed ears, thick black hair...

Noticing her friends staring at her with various expressions of disgust, she looked away with embarrassment. "You know... beautiful in a really gross, completely repellent sort of way."

Thinking he might speak now that he was calm, Biz worked the sock out of his mouth.

She almost didn't get her arm out of reach in time. The only warning she had was the eyes suddenly going intense and wild, then he tried to get a hold of her with his teeth. Alex grabbed his head and held him still so Biz could replace the sock with shaking hands.

"What did you say to him?" Doogie asked.

"I just... I said to calm down and be still," she explained. "If he couldn't understand _that_ , I've got nothing."

"Where the hell did you learn that shit?" Rich asked, still rubbing his bruised cheek.

"Internet," Biz shrugged.

"All right," Todd said firmly. "How did he get _here_?" All eyes turned to Biz.

"Hell if _I_ know!" she cried defensively. "Trust me, I have no freaking clue. I don't dance people into existence. It's not my bag, baby."

"Heh," Rich chuckled. "Kind of like in _Weird Science_ , huh?" They all looked at him in bafflement. Shrugging, he gestured toward the Orc. "You know... using a doll to make a dream date. Except... well, come to think of it, Biz has always had a 'thing' for Orcs, right?"

Giving him a withering look, she snorted, "They're a fascinating _culture_ , not a potential pool for kinky fantasy sex. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Come on, Rich," Todd snorted. "Yeah, they're cool and all, but _look_ at this guy. Even worse, _smell_ him. Jesus H. Christ. Who'd want a piece of _that_?"

"Hey, guys," Doogie suddenly said. "What's, uh... what's this crap coming off him?"

Looking where he pointed, Biz stiffened with alarm. "Shit, he's bleeding."

"That's _blood_?" Doogie said incredulously.

Rich, who'd been at the Orc's left leg, looked at the black slick on the floor and his own clothes. " _Christ_!" he yelled. "The shit's all _over_ me!"

"We've got to get him out of here," Biz said peremptorily as order began to break down again. "Take him back to the hotel. We don't have anything we can bandage him up with here, unless Rich bought _two_ shirts."

" _Twenty fucking bucks_ ," he reminded her caustically.

"Whatever. Come on, we have to move him. Todd, untie his legs. Get him up while he can still walk, assuming he can."

Another struggle ensued when his legs were freed, but they managed to stand him up. He swayed a little, and didn't seem able to put full weight on the injured leg, but he stood. Biz beamed at him.

"He's Fighting Uruk-hai, I'll just bet," she said happily. Then her eyes fell to the floor.

The perfectly made, rare mint-in-box action figure of an Uruk was crushed beyond recognition from the combined weight of full-grown, _real_ Uruk and full battle armor falling on it.

"Aw, nuts," she groaned. " _Eighty_ bucks."

* * *

On the descent from the top of the wall, Dargum felt almost suspended in a silent cocoon, as if he'd gone momentarily deaf as death drew near. Then quite suddenly, he was blinded by the sun.

Many suns, in fact, but he barely had the span of a heartbeat to squeeze his eyes shut against the glare before he hit the ground. Winded and stunned, he lay for a moment testing his lungs, trying to fill them. The rain was gone. The night was gone. There was brightness behind his sealed eyelids. No more stench of blood and death, no sounds of battle. Breathless quiet... then voices speaking in hushed tones...

Trying to get up sent a spasm of pain through his leg, and he groaned, then there was the sound of scuttling and bodies landed on him from out of nowhere. Eyes flaring wide, he bellowed a protest that was quickly stifled by shock as a flood of information assaulted a brain that had been closed off to distractions since his birth.

_Man... silver clothes... sliding over me... not metal... don't understand..._

_Can't see others... pinning my legs... light... hundreds of suns... eyes burning..._

_Release me! I am Fighting Uruk-hai!_

_Another upon me... arms down... can't fight... claws... can't use... teeth... bite... come for me!_

_Dagger... in my boot... can't reach... sword gone... must fight!_

_Gagging... choking... can't breathe... can't get it out... what is it?... help me!_

_Pain... pain... leg... stop... why so much pain?... Master, you said there would be no pain!_

_Master?_

_I cannot hear you, Master!_

_Binding me... tying me..._

_Helpless... I... can't move... Master, help me!_

Was this where Orcs went when they died? A place of searingly bright light and whiteskins tormenting them? Dargum's mind was in turmoil. He couldn't _remember_ dying. Surely he would remember _that_.

Once bound and down, with little fight left in him, a vision appeared before his eyes. A whiteskin female by scent, but her skin was not sickly pale as whiteskins' were. She was _green_. A brighter and more alluring green than he'd seen on any _snaga_ in his master's 'employ.' Yet her smooth complexion did _not_ seem Orcish from his experience. And her eyes were grey like a stormy sky, not the yellow of an Uruk or the red of a _snaga_.

Who or what _was_ she? The female looked him boldly in the eyes, unafraid. She touched his face... _caressed_ his face, like no other of his kind had ever done. He didn't know much about Orc females, but he suspected a soft touch would not come from one of them.

He wanted to know more of this female. That seemed a mystery he could hold onto, focus on to the exclusion of all else, for all else was terrifying. He was Fighting Uruk-hai; fear was not known, and not allowed. Yet all that told him not to fear, that reassured him that he did what Master wanted, that punished him for his failures... it was all gone. There was no longer a restraint on his mind, either. Questions crowded his thoughts, his own voice clamoring for attention, demanding answers he didn't have.

Every word out of these whiteskins' mouths was gibberish. No answers would come from them, either.

The female. Concentrate on the female. She led them, and she looked at him without fear; she must be strong. Dargum's eyes followed her intently as she gathered up several bags and led the group out of the bright place. A familiar twitch and throb assailed his loins, but for the first time in his life, he found it an annoyance. Were the opportunity to arise, and he was unbound, he would most certainly act upon his instincts and fuck her with abandon. But now he wanted answers, he wanted to understand what happened to him, where he was, why he no longer felt or heard his Master, how the battle ended and if they won... So many questions, and no answers forthcoming if he allowed himself to be distracted from the asking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRANSLATION:
> 
> Skaat izgu, Uruk durbûrz. Mauk izgûr, Uruk. Az dushatâr izgûr, Uruk. Throqu ishu-izub, agh âdhn-it narash!
> 
> Come to me, mighty Orc. Fight for me, Orc. Kill the sorcerer for me, Orc. Devour my enemies and leave nothing behind!


	2. Orcs Don't Trust Indoor Plumbing

" _Stupid_ son of a bitch!" Todd barked as the Orc went down again. They'd been forced to hobble the uncooperative bastard just to make it a few yards without having to chase him down, but that hadn't lessened his attempts at freedom by much.

"I don't know where the hell he thinks he's gonna go," Rich muttered. Grabbing the thickly muscled arm of the Orc, he hauled him to his feet. "Hey Biz, bring your tits over here. That'll calm him down."

"Stick it up your ass," she snarled. She'd put the Orc's helmet back on him, and he still had her sock wadded in his mouth. It seemed that every time she got close, he went quiet and _sniffed_ at her. Then he'd lunge and try to free his hands. Every time, she jumped back with alarm, and he retreated somewhat, confusion on his face. Biz desperately wished her grasp of Black Speech was even remotely useful, but so far nothing she said seemed to register with him. Was it the accent? The weird dialect? The fact that a bunch of LARPing fanboys invented it? She didn't dare quote the Ring's inscription to him; if _that_ was accurate, who knew what it would do to him? Leaving a trail of blood behind he might be, but he was still fighting them.

As they neared the exit doors of the convention center, Biz froze. There was a pair of security guards chatting away near the doors. "Holy fucking shit," she muttered.

"Herberts, twelve o'clock," Alex said nervously. "Bright ideas better start coming online, folks."

"Uh...," Rich offered unhelpfully.

"Ditto," Todd supplied. Doogie just shrugged noncommittally.

"Okay," Biz said, turning to them with sudden inspiration, "we're a LARP group and, uh, we've been playing a 'capture the flag' type of thing, and we've captured the captain of the other team..."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rich hissed.

"No, this is good," Alex nodded encouragingly.

"What?"

"Rich, are you _that_ dumb?" Biz snapped. "We need to get his ass past _security_. And not look suspicious doing it." Frowning, she scanned the bound and gagged Uruk and grimaced. "Not... _real_ suspicious, anyway." Shaking her head, she continued, "It's a sci-fi con. They probably won't even let us get far with a description of what we're doing before brushing us off. So that's what we're doing. We're a LARP group, he's our prisoner, and we have to get him to our home base. So... act triumphant."

Rich stared at her incredulously. "Sock in his mouth!" he barked, pointed at the Orc's face. "Who the _fuck_ is gonna believe we'd be that... realistic?"

Biz gave him a withering look. "They're _normals_. What the hell do _they_ know what LARPers get up to?"

"Looks pretty suspicious, though," Doogie agreed. "Maybe the hog-tying won't worry them much, but the sock?"

Scowling at them, Biz snapped, "Fine. I'll take it out. But you'd better have a good grip on him." They nodded and surrounded the Orc on both sides. When Biz turned to him, his bestial face was just beginning to show signs that the blood loss was getting to him. It pained her to see him suffering, but it gave her some encouragement knowing his ability to cause trouble was diminishing.

Biz stepped close to the Uruk and hesitantly reached up to his face. He jerked back, eyes flaring wide.

"Ssshh," she soothed, and stroked the lower part of his cheek below the helmet. Again, he seemed utterly undone by a soft touch. "Easy now." With one hand resting on his jawline, cupping his face, she carefully took hold of the sock and pulled it out. Some of the fibers were hooked in his teeth, and she had to reach in to free them.

" _Man_ , this guy needs a Tic Tac," she muttered.

He remained still until the sock was out, then he curled his lips and began to growl. "Ssshh," she said again, and pressed her fingers over his mouth. "Calm down. It's okay," she said softly.

Looking into his eyes, she saw for a moment his fear, but only a moment. "Ssshh," she repeated, stroking his face. Her eyes flicked from feature to feature, examining every line, each scar, the color and texture of his skin. She was utterly transfixed, arrested by his very _existence_.

"You two want a room?" Rich asked sarcastically.

Glancing over, Biz gave him a withering look. "Ha ha. Very funny." Releasing the Uruk, she stepped back. He seemed to have been startled awake by her departure, and blinked a few times in confusion. His piercing yellow eyes locked on her and didn't waver.

"Okay, boys, let's go a'LARPing, shall we?" she said uncomfortably. The Uruk's gaze was the kind her mom's steamy romances always referred to; the one that undresses you. She certainly felt thoroughly stripped by _his_.

Sort of felt a little... naughty.

Shaking herself, she turned toward the oblivious security guards and affected a rather overly sexualized saunter, with hips swaying wantonly and the occasional raised-arm-spin-and-dip to give the illusion that she danced as she walked. The guys urged the dumbfounded Orc forward in her wake.

"Behold our victory!" Biz told the startled guards boldly. "Their holdings looted and burned, their standard thrown down, their _captain_ ," she said, gesturing grandly at the Uruk, "now our prisoner. We have prevailed! Victory is ours!"

Glancing at one another and shrugging, her friends let out boisterous war cries and victory shouts. The Uruk startled at the sudden noise.

"All right, cut the bullshit," one of the security guards said wearily. "I don't want to know. Get your asses out of here."

"Nice costume," the other guard commented appreciatively, checking Biz out. Smiling at him, she gracefully dipped into a deep curtsey, managing to reveal more leg and cleavage in the process. Rising, she led her 'troops' out the doors.

" _Jesus_!" Rich gasped. "I thought we were dead."

"Thank god they had Schultz guarding the door," Todd said with a sigh of relief.

"Hotel," Alex reminded them, and they headed out the vestibule of the convention center and onto the dark streets.

* * *

Dargum was in a daze, having gone numb from the shock of being _touched_ like that. He couldn't grasp it, didn't know its meaning or understand what the female wanted of him. But when she touched him, he was pretty sure he'd give her anything she asked for, if he could just figure out what it was.

All of it went to hell when they stepped through the doors.

The crisp cold air and sudden _noise_ struck him hard, and he came to full awareness once again. The sky was dark and there weren't any stars. It seemed the stars had come down to the ground, captured and stuck on the ends of poles lining what might have been some sort of road or path. The things _on_ the road were huge and loud, and seemed also to have captured stars like yellow eyes in the front and... something else red on the back. The path they walked, with the males clustered around him and the green female leading, was full of whiteskins. They were _everywhere._ Several glanced at him unconcernedly, a few with more curiosity, but otherwise they paid him little heed. Was he not Fighting Uruk-hai? Should they not tremble before him, even hobbled as he was?

He craned his neck around, straining to identify the threats that appeared to be everywhere at once, yet didn't seem inclined to attack.

Minutes later, but not soon enough to suit Dargum, they entered another building with a more subdued glow about it. Fewer folk were here, and as soon as the doors to _this_ place closed, the infernal cacophany of outside was silenced. He found it was easier to breathe, almost as though he'd held his breath outside.

* * *

"All right, my room," Biz said in an undertone, and they headed for the glass-enclosed elevators. She bit her lip nervously; the Uruk looked like one more test of his ability to adapt to new things would end badly. What better way to freak the poor thing out than sticking him in a glass elevator and going _up_ fourteen floors?

"This wouldn't be the 'your room' that _I_ share, would it?" Rich snarled.

"Don't be a baby," she replied. "He seems... sort of calmer around me, so it stands to reason."

"You've got tits," Rich pointed out. "That's like a tranquilizer for men. Brings us to our knees." He and the others shared a snicker over that.

"Remind me why I hang out with you animals again?"

"We had a bonding moment," Todd said with a shrug.

Doogie laughed. "Yeah, nothing like a DM's desperate try for a TPK to bring a group together."

"You _did_ penny his door, right?" Alex asked. "I heard about that, and always wondered."

Doogie shook his head and pointed at Rich. "Huh-uh. _He_ was the mastermind _and_ the perp. I was just the look-out."

Grinning, Rich puffed up a little. "I only _aspire_ to greatness. Guy I knew installed a fish tank in his RA's doorway over break. Plexiglass panels and assloads of silicone cauking. It was a beautiful thing."

The elevator bank loomed in front of them, and Biz sighed nervously. "You know this is going to send him 'round the bend, right?"

"Meh," Alex shrugged. "Like the rest of this shit hasn't."

"He's looking kind of peaky," Doogie noted worriedly. "A bit... paler. Hard as it is to tell. I've _never_ seen skin so dark outside of North Africa."

"At least the bleeding stopped," Todd noted, glancing behind them. There was no trail in the carpeting, fortunately.

Steeling themselves, they stood in front of the elevator doors and Biz punched the button.

"Hey, maybe they'll have some soothing music playing," Rich suggested hopefully. "Calm him right down."

"Unless it's Celine Dion," Todd grumbled, "then he'll rip our throats out."

When the doors opened, the Uruk startled, looking at them in surprise. Biz went in first and beckoned them inside.

"Point him away from the back," she advised. The back wall of the elevator provided a spectacular view of the central space inside the hotel; the rooms were built around the outer walls, leaving twenty floors of open space in the middle. The glass elevator allowed riders to see every bit of it all the way up.

With the Uruk turned toward the doors, they tightened their grips on him and set their feet. Biz stepped in front of him so he might focus on _her_ instead of where the elevator was going. When it lurched upward, however, even _Biz_ wasn't nearly as interesting.

First he braced himself as the floor began to move. His eyes darted about in a panic. Out of the corner of his eye, he must have seen the plants and decorations around the glass falling away as they rose, and craned his neck to see. That's when he saw the floors sliding down on the other side of the glass.

He'd been pretty quiet up to this point, but the ground dropping out from under him was too much. He panicked and tried to wrench his arms free. The men who held him nearly lost their grip as he twisted and writhed.

"Hold on, guys!" Biz cried, biting her lip in consternation. Worried he might do something _really_ stupid, or worse take one of her friends out, Biz did something that even surprised _her_.

She stepped up to him and threw her arms around his neck.

"Ssshh," she breathed in his ear as he froze. "Settle down. It's okay."

"God damn, woman," Rich said. "You don't know where he's _been_."

"I've got a pretty good idea, now shut the fuck up," she replied as calmly as she could. Now she could feel the quivering tension in the Uruk. He was barely hanging on to his sanity with so many strange things happening to him. "What we're going to do," she continued, her voice soft and gentle, "is take him to my room..."

" _Our_ room," Rich pointed out.

" _Our_ room," she corrected with a hint of annoyance, "and you boys are going to show him how much fun it is to take a shower."

"Ah _Jesus_ , Biz!" Todd whined.

" _And_ how satisfying a toilet can be," she added, barely suppressing the grimace of disgust. This close to him, she was pretty sure he had no idea what to do with one. "I'm going to get this crap off me first, though, and run out to a store for clothes and something to... I don't know, tie him up a little more... reliably. I don't trust these t-shirt strips."

"Twenty bucks," Rich muttered.

"Like you can't get the same thing online," Alex pointed out.

The elevator dinged the fourteenth floor and shuddered to a halt. Biz slowly released the Uruk and examined his face.

He looked like he'd been hit with a brick. His jaw hung open and he just stared at her like he'd never seen anything like her in his entire life.

The hall was thankfully deserted, and they made their way quickly to the room Biz and Rich shared. Biz slid the key card through the groove and pulled the door open to let them inside, then ducked in behind. They all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"I'm hitting the shower, guys," Biz announced, heading for her suitcase and rummaging for jeans, t-shirt, and underwear. "Don't make a mess." Then she went into the bathroom and closed the door. The Uruk's eyes fixed on the bathroom door and his brow furrowed.

Doogie looked around the room. "Like she'd notice," he mumbled. The reason why Rich and Biz nearly always shared a room when they arranged their con get-togethers was because absolutely nobody else in the group was as big a slob as those two. To the untrained eye, it looked like they'd opened their suitcases on their respective beds, grabbed handfuls of their clothes, and thrown them around the room like confetti. Doogie was pretty sure Rich would find a pair of Biz's panties in his suitcase when he got home.

Of course, according to friendly speculation, it would likely be no accident.

"So... what now?" Todd asked awkwardly. They were standing around the exploded laundry room that was Rich and Biz's hotel suite, the only bathroom was occupied, and a reeking Uruk dressed in battered, bloody armor with a thick coating of crusted blood and shit down his legs was swaying in front of them.

"Um... check out his injuries?" Doogie suggested.

" _You_ wanna be the one to explain to him we want to take his clothes off so we can play doctor?" Todd asked sarcastically.

"Good luck with that," Alex said with a smirk. "I'll just stand over here."

"Pussy," Doogie snarled. "Look, just because the bleeding's stopped doesn't mean he's in the clear. He looks like shit..."

" _Smells_ like shit," Rich corrected.

"... and looks ready to drop. So... let's do this, all right?"

"Do what?" Rich asked suspiciously.

"Take his armor off," Doogie said with a shrug.

"Shouldn't we get him drunk first?" Rich asked nervously.

"Yeah, maybe _you_ don't remember the entry in the Monster Manual, but _I_ do," Alex snapped. "A drunk Orc is _not_ what I want on the loose in the hotel I'm staying in."

"Okay, first, let's get him down," Doogie instructed with more confidence than he felt. "Where's Biz's sock? I don't want the neighbors complaining to management."

"Just grab one off the floor," Rich shrugged. "So what, we jump'im? Pile on?"

"Nice and subtle," Todd smirked.

"No, I thought maybe we could...," Doogie began, then he looked at the Uruk. He was tall; maybe six feet. Likely weighed two hundred fifty pounds, all of it muscle. It was a testament to the synthetic fabric industry that he hadn't broken free yet. "Yeah, we'd better just jump him."

"All right, then," Rich sighed, rolling up his sleeves. "And Biz made such _nice_ costumes for us."

* * *

The Uruk was just beginning to calm and take in his surroundings when the whiteskins hurled themselves on him like a pack of wargs. As soon as his mouth opened on a bellowing protest, there was another wad of fabric stuffed into it, nearly gagging him. Dargum was weakened by blood loss and overall shock, and they brought him down to the floor with a resounding thud. Then they started fumbling at the buckles of his armor.

Bucking under them as he would have done in the barracks when the buggering started, he tried to get them off him before his protective gear was taken. First the boots came off, then the breastplate. They had his thigh guards in a matter of moments, then they went after his leather kilt. The bindings at his ankles kept him from gaining much purchase on the strangely soft floor, and those at his wrists prevented him from adding his sharp claws to the fray. He nailed one of them in the jaw with his shoulder, but it was only a glancing blow that failed to shake him off.

When he was down to his undershirt, they stopped and looked at him, panting with the effort. He gasped for breath himself, the gag all but smothering him.

Where the fuck was the female? He needed her touch because it made everything go calm and still around him.

He had his answer when that door opened and she stepped out. Except that she looked completely different now. Dargum stared open-mouthed at her now pale skin and wondered what hellish things happened in that room to make her a whiteskin.

* * *

"Man, I can't tell what's blood, what's dirt, and what's shit," Doogie groused. "I hate to say it, guys, but he has _got_ to hit the shower before I can do _anything_ for him."

"I'm so glad I got to go first," Biz said. "A stink like that's guaranteed to steal half the hotel's hot water supply." Looking at the half-naked Uruk on the floor, her brow creased with worry. Once the armor was off, he had nothing on him except a ragged shirt with tears all over it. The color was unidentifiable, turned grey from body funk and zero washings. By the look of him, he'd never been introduced to an outhouse or any other toilet-related convenience. It looked entirely like he had grown accustomed to marching without a bathroom break, just letting go without pausing. Or maybe he'd been forced to.

His expression was bordering on horror, and she wondered if it was the change in her skin color. Maybe he thought she was somehow related to him or one of his kind, since Orcs were most often depicted as green-skinned. It was just one more baffling thing he had to deal with, heaped on everything else.

"I'd better go," she sighed, grabbing her jacket. "Go easy on him. I suspect everything pretty much sucks big time to him right now."

"Sucks to be _him_?" Rich grumbled. "We are about to introduce a drain clog no amount of Liquid Plumber can possibly conquer, and you think it sucks to be _him_? How about the poor bastard cleaning crew in this hotel?"

"So concerned for others!" Biz cried sarcastically. "Why Rich, my heart doth _flutter_." Rolling her eyes, she picked up her handbag and headed for the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can." Then she was gone.

Sighing, Doogie exchanged looks with the others. "This is going to suck _big time_."

The first thing they had to do, they found, was wrestle him into the bathroom. Somehow, he'd decided the bathroom was a chamber of horrors and put up violent resistance to being dragged in there. He even planted his feet on the door frame like a kid in a cartoon. The sock in his mouth barely kept his roaring protests to a tolerable level.

"Okay, who has to pee?" Doogie asked the group at large once they got the Uruk past the threshhold and stood gasping and wheezing from the exertion.

"I thought of _that_ before we left home, _dad_ ," Todd muttered.

"No, stupid, we have to _show_ him what to do." Scanning the others, Doogie said, "Come on, _somebody_?"

"All right, all right," Alex grumbled. "I'll take one for the team. Step aside." Hiding his embarrassment with bluster, Alex lifted the toilet seat and set about taking a piss. "It's bad enough _he's_ staring at my dick without _you_ guys doing it," he snarled.

"But Alex, you're so _hot_ ," Todd snickered, but turned away.

"Shy bladder? Really?" Rich teased as he shifted to the side.

Doogie watched the Uruk carefully. "Well, he's paying attention," the paramedic noted quietly.

"I'm _so_ glad my dick fascinates him," Alex snapped angrily, then tucked his member away and zipped up with a jerk. Thrusting a finger in Doogie's face, he growled, " _You_ can show him how to take a dump."

"Uh... one thing at a time," Doogie said uncomfortably. "Okay, guys. He looks interested, so let's _ease_ the ties off his hands, all right?"

"Anybody got a sock full of sand?" Rich asked. "One that's plus one against Orcs?"

"We're _not_ beating him up," Doogie snapped. "Careful, " he advised as Todd slowly untied the Uruk's wrist bindings. "Hold his arms, guys."

Alex and Rich each took hold of an arm and held on firmly. When the binding let go, the Uruk tensed, but didn't immediately attack. Standing behind him, Doogie noted him clenching and unclenching his fists.

"I think his hands are numb," he said, brow furrowed with concern. "Probably had him tied too tightly." Looking past the Uruk's shoulder, Doogie grinned. "All right, Todd. You're in front. Help him with his dick, there's a love."

"Kiss. My. _Ass_ ," Todd snarled. Sighing, he reluctantly approached the Uruk. "Okay, dude. This is _not_ a come-on, all right? I swear I don't want a piece of your ass." Moving slowly, Todd took hold of the Uruk's wrists and brought his hands to the front. Eyes narrowing suspiciously, the Uruk hesitantly closed a fist around his penis. Todd nodded encouragingly, then stepped aside and gestured toward the toilet.

* * *

He wasn't completely stupid; Dargum _knew_ what they expected of him, for once. While he had to piss something fierce, and in spite of all he'd been through, he somehow managed to hold it in, he was loathe to do it in front of _these_ males. And he didn't have any idea why.

When in Isengard had he ever shit or pissed in private? For that matter, when had he done _anything_ without a raucously jeering audience? He beat his cock in front of a crowd, he raped lesser Uruk-hai who thought themselves his better while others cheered, he'd even gotten fucked himself a few times with a load of Uruk-hai standing by yanking their dicks, waiting for a go when his attacker was done.

That's just the way things were.

As he stood there staring at the white bowl, he wondered why things seemed so different now. The Voice of his Master was gone; utterly _gone_. He heard _no_ Voice, no murmuring, no urgings toward any sort of goal whatsoever. With that loss came strange feelings he'd never had before, like _this_ one, this need to be alone or at least not _watched_ so fucking intently while he pissed.

But he had to go _really_ badly. If this was where the whiteskins wanted him to go, he supposed he'd better do it there. Who knew what the hell they'd do to him in this room that had sucked the Orc – or whatever it was that made her green – right out of that female. Swallowing hard and darting wary looks at the males, he pointed his cock at the bowl and tried to relax.

* * *

When the Uruk's stream of _very_ dark, rank-smelling piss hit the water in the toilet, Todd grimaced and looked away. " _Fuck_ me, that's nasty," he hissed.

"Jesus H., what does he _eat_?" Rich asked, pinching his nostrils shut.

"Probably doesn't take in the water he needs to," Doogie reasoned. He buried his nose in the crook of his elbow. "And he's an _Orc_. Probably has a totally different body chemistry."

"Black blood and orange piss," Alex gasped, trying not to breathe. "What a lovely fella she's bringing home to mama."

"God, can you imagine what Eric's gonna say when she gets him home?" Todd asked. "Cause you know she'll be the one to adopt this homeless son of a bitch."

"Ah man," Doogie said, his shoulders sagging. "He is gonna flip a _shit_. A worse normal I've _never_ seen."

"You ask me, she ought to have dumped him years ago," Rich pointed out. "When _I_ met him, he had 'fucks around' written all over his face."

"What the hell do _you_ know, dimwit?" Alex retorted. "You met him _once_."

"Yeah, and he had _the look_ ," Rich shrugged. "You'll notice he never comes to these things."

"Not everyone's a geek," Doogie shrugged. "And it's none of our business, so shut up."

"She deserves better," Rich muttered sullenly.

"No arguments here," Doogie agreed. "All right, enough chit-chat. Todd, get the shower going."

* * *

He started to protest when they peeled his rotted shirt off, then really stepped it up when they pushed and shoved him into the large white trough with water streaming down. But unlike a cool, soothing waterfall, the water was _hot_. Not enough to burn his skin, but unexpected nonetheless. Then the males were all over him with cloths and some foamy substance, rubbing his flesh...

Dargum wasn't accustomed to being groomed by non-Uruk-hai, and certainly didn't trust these males to do it, not _here_ in _the room_. Was this part of it? Was _this_ what made the female lose her Orcishness? Panicking suddenly, he started to fight.

* * *

"Holy shit! Grab his arms!"

"Where's the sock? Get it back in his mouth, _hurry_!"

"Jesus... Jesus... Jesus..."

"He's goin' down, guys... _careful_..."

"No, down is good, let him down easy... _I said_ _ **easy**_ _, you moron!_ "

"Son of a fucking bitch! He _bit_ me! Where the _fuck_ is the sock?"

"Get his hands, get his hands – come on, dammit!"

"Sit on his chest, hold him down."

"Ah man, look at the _water_..."

"I'm gonna be sick."

"Crap, crap, _crap_ , get his head up! He's gonna drown!"

"Get him up, turn him... turn... yeah, okay. Gimme the shampoo."

"Don't you _fucking_ dare use mine!"

"Yeah, like he _wants_ flowery hair smell. Don't be a selfish ass!"

"That shit's _expensive_!"

"What, a bottle costs _twenty bucks_?"

"Not fucking funny!"

"Son of a bitch, he's going again!"

"Grab him!"

"What, he can't have clean hair _either_? What the fuck is _wrong_ with this guy?"

* * *

By the time Biz returned with several shopping bags, the hotel room looked like it had been hit by a hurricane. In amongst the usual debris of Biz and Rich's scattered clothing were several bodies.

Todd lay sprawled on Rich's bed holding an ice pack over his left eye. Rich sat back in a puffy chair with his legs stretched out in front of him, hands dangling limply over the arm rests. Alex was on Biz's bed face down, one arm hanging over the side as he snored loudly.

The Uruk was lying in an exhausted, but relatively clean, heap on the floor with Doogie stitching up the wound on his hip. He looked up when she came in.

"Hey, back so soon?" Doogie completely failed to hide the sarcasm.

"Um... you boys... have fun?" she asked hesitantly.

"Uh... no," Doogie said. "Doesn't take kindly to baths. Go figure."

"Sorry about that," she replied, chagrined. As she approached the prone Uruk, his eyes shot open and found her. Naked as he was, there was no hiding the nearly instant stiffening of his member.

Alarmed and blushing fiercely, she dug in one of the bags for the clothes she bought him. "Here," she said, tossing a pair of black sweat pants and a forest green t-shirt to Doogie. "Best I could do."

"Please tell me you brought something to restrain him with," Doogie sighed wearily as he struggled to shimmy the Uruk into the sweatpants. "He's a total pain in the ass. I don't think we'll be able to set him loose until we can communicate with him. He's confused and exhausted, he doesn't trust us, doesn't know what we want or where he is... I feel sorry for him, but he's wearing us all down."

"Uh, yeah, I got something," Biz said awkwardly, and offered another bag to Doogie. "It's, uh... all I could find."

Frowning, Doogie looked in the bag, then snorted a laugh. Reaching in, he pulled out the package. "Well, now. I guess we know what _your_ plans for the Orc are. But really, fuzzy pink? Where the hell did you get this shit?"

Blushing furiously, she swatted his shoulder. "Don't be a smart ass. Walmart doesn't have hand cuffs; I had to go... elsewhere."

Examining the receipt, Doogie smirked. "Yeah. I imagine 'Spanks Adult Video' was the first thing to come to mind. Bungee cords didn't occur to you?"

Wincing, she hung her head. "Son of a bitch."

"No, this is fine," Doogie reassured her teasingly. "Pink fuzzy wrist restraints will look awesome with his coloring, really. Oh, and look," he said, pointing. "A little whip and some lubricant. Lovely."


	3. A Little Nibble Here and There

Relief flooded the Uruk when the female returned, releasing some of his tensions. He didn't even mind so much that she'd had the Orc sucked out of her in _that room_. How Dargum had escaped a similar fate, he had no idea. Perhaps he'd put up just enough of a fight, or the instruments required weren't employed. Though he couldn't imagine what _else_ the whiteskins might have used on him. They seemed to be everywhere at once, poking, stroking, pawing, yanking his hair, blasting water in his face, knocking him about in the tight confines of the trough. He'd paid at least one with his teeth before they managed to stuff a cloth in his mouth. Unfortunately, he didn't get a proper grip and so was denied more than a drop or two of the whiteskin's blood.

What baffled him was why none of them seemed interested in fucking him. Not that he wanted them to, but that's how these games were played in the barracks. It seemed... out of place not to have _that_ issue to contend with on top of the rest of it.

But the female was here now, and he watched her every move. His cock promptly stiffened when she approached, and a rumbling purr automatically emitted from deep in his chest. Startled by his own response, he frowned and it stopped abruptly. She hadn't noticed the strange sound he made; her cheeks darkened when she saw the evidence of his arousal, though, then she tossed cloths at the whiteskin repairing his injury.

If only she would draw nearer, he thought desperately. He needed to smell her, and be reassured she was the same female as before. She'd changed so drastically in _that room_ , then all but disappeared out the door they'd used to enter this place. Dargum never thought he'd _need_ someone like this.

It wasn't so much that he wanted to fuck her. Of course he did. Were he not bound, he was certain to try, even though the thought was both compelling and oddly uncomfortable at the same time. She was _intriguing_ ; that was what was unexpected. That a whiteskin female could interest him beyond a fucking was unprecedented in his experience.

Watching her speak with the male tending his wound and trying to dress him, which Dargum refused to comply with and stubbornly lay limp and unhelpful as the man struggled, he found his eyelids drooping and his body calming. Her voice was soothing, though he knew nothing of her tongue. Each time she'd touched him with such unaccustomed gentleness was replayed in his mind.

Very little could have broken through his fear of this place except for the female. Her touch was light and soft, and so _alien_. He longed to feel her hands upon him again. And when she cleaved her entire _body_ against his in the rising room...

A shiver of remembered pleasure rolled through his body.

* * *

"So... casualties? Injuries?" Biz prompted. Doogie snorted.

"Todd got a nibble, but he's all right," the paramedic shrugged. "He's the Red Shirt; could've been worse." Nodding to Rich, he added, " _His_ injury was the worst. It took half a bottle of his shampoo to get even a cursory once-over done on this guy." Doogie shook his head. "Gonna have to cut half that shit off if you want a nice clean roommate."

Glancing at the exhausted Uruk, his eyes hooded yet somehow still able to undress her with their intensity, she worried her lip a bit. "Hey, you guys... aren't going back to your rooms tonight, are you?"

"Nope," Doogie said. "Such as we are, we're staying." He half-heartedly gestured at the felled geeks draped over the furniture like disaster survivors. "If he makes a move, we'll eventually put a stop to it, I promise you that."

"Wow, I feel so safe and protected," Biz drawled sarcastically. The Uruk's wrists were bound once more with Rich's shirt; they had yet to switch him to the new wrist restraints, at which time they would get him into the dark green shirt. Right now, however, he was only dressed in the loose-fitting sweatpants. Biz could see his bare chest quite well in the lamplight.

"I wonder what that's for?" she mused half to herself, tilting her head. There was what looked like a crudely applied brand in the center of the Uruk's chest. Judging by the ragged scarring, she guessed it must have hurt something awful, quite possibly making him jerk or flinch. Or the brand was just that roughly made. What it _looked_ like was two vertical lines with a 'V' connecting them. What it _meant_ was anyone's guess.

"Got me," Doogie replied. He'd gotten the stitches done and was putting a gauze pad in place. "I'll have to tell Rich when he returns to the land of the living; _twenty_ _stitches_." He laughed to himself.

"Any idea what it was from?" she asked, nodding at the Uruk's hip.

Sighing, he shrugged. "Stab wound, it looked like. Damn deep one, too." Glancing at her face, he frowned. "You know where he got it, don't you."

"I, uh... yeah, I think," Biz said awkwardly. "The most likely place was the Battle of Helm's Deep. Loads of Uruk-hai there. Ten thousand, as I recall. He likely..."

"Uruk-hai?"

Startled, both Biz and Doogie looked at the Uruk. He was blinking rapidly and looking from one face to the other. For the first time, he looked as though he'd comprehended something they said.

"Yeah," Biz nodded encouragingly, and focused her attention on the Uruk. She pointed at him. "You. Uruk-hai."

His breathing quickened and he nodded vigorously. " _Kul-izg Uruk. Lat iist Uruk-hai_?"

"Uh... did you catch that?" Doogie asked.

"Not a word of it," Biz breathed, shaking her head. "Except the Uruk bit. That's about all." He'd literally come alive when he thought for that one moment she might understand him, then deflated so completely at her incomprehension that she felt compelled to stroke his cheek in sympathy.

Quick as a whip, his head turned and his mouth clamped down on her wrist.

"Fuck!" Biz squealed, instinctively yanking her hand back. The Uruk's hold wasn't firm, though, and she easily pulled away. However, his teeth tore through her skin, leaving multiple lacerations several inches long.

"Holy crap!" Doogie cried, grabbing her arm and examining the wounds.

" _Bad_ Orc!" Biz snapped, and awkwardly reached around to slap his face with her free hand. " _Bad!_ " She noted his startled expression and snarled, "Uruk-hai. _Pah_!" She fake-spat at him, hoping he'd get the god damned hint.

He must have, because he looked a little shame-faced. Or at least his brow furrowed and he kept darting his eyes around like he had no idea what the hell came over him. Disgusted, she took a look at the damage. Now that Doogie was gently daubing at the blood with a cloth, the shock and anger slipped away to be replaced by a full acknowledgement of just how much that fucking _hurt_. Tears formed in her eyes and she whimpered.

"Easy does it," Doogie said gently as he cleaned out the cuts with antiseptic. "No permanent harm done. He got a better grip on Todd, trust me. Practically a love bite, this. You'll be fine. Don't even need stitches. It's okay."

Taking a deep breath, she calmed. Doogie had an excellent bedside manner, she realized. How had she missed this about him? Probably hadn't been bitten by an Orc in his presence before, she supposed. She winced and looked away as he put a bandage on her wrist. The whole area would likely be tender for awhile and probably bruise up something fierce. Cracking an eye open, she looked again at the Uruk.

Still confused. Like he had no idea what he just did, or didn't know it would make her mad. Slipping her arm free, she held it up in the Uruk's face and pointed forcefully at the bandage.

" _No_!" she barked angrily. "Bad Uruk!" He flinched from her tone, his eyes flicking between her and Doogie.

The EMT had a similarly angry look on his face. "Dude, you fucked _way_ up. Chicks don't dig biters, man."

"Thanks," Biz said witheringly. "Best you can do? 'Chicks don't dig biters'? No shoving me out of the way and strangling him?"

Doogie grinned sheepishly. "While defending your honor would be the noblest duty of my young life, I'm gonna have to pass. I'm bone-tired and thinking seriously about climbing into bed with Todd." Shrugging, he added, "I can't sink lower."

"Well, let's get his shirt on and... his... things on," Biz suggested uncomfortably. "He looks close to collapse, too."

"Yeah," Doogie agreed. "Hey, Rich," he said, swatting the smooth-faced Klingon's foot. "I think you've sulked about your hair care products long enough. Come help me with this guy."

Groaning, Rich lurched from the chair and knelt beside the Uruk. "Whattayou want me to do?"

"Get his arm, and I'll get the other," Doogie instructed. "Biz, untie him and see if you can get the shirt on over his head."

Once they'd raised the Uruk into a sitting position, Biz crawled around behind him. He promptly stiffened and tried to keep her in his sights. He _sniffed_ her while she was working on the soaked knot. "You kept him tied through the shower adventure?"

"Had to," Doogie grunted, straining against the Uruk's strength. The bastard was still trying to get at Biz. "Thought we could get away with it since he peed like a good boy, but once that water hit him..."

"He pisses _orange_ ," Rich informed her.

Rolling his eyes, Doogie said, "It's not _orange_ , you doofus. It's just a really dark yellow. Kind of like..."

"Okay, boys, enough piss-talk, all right?" Biz interrupted. "Jesus, who tied this knot? It's got Boy Scouts wannabe written all over it."

"That'd be Todd," Rich said. "Doing it carefully got him popped in the eye, so he hurried it up."

"Damn," Biz whistled low. "He sure lived up to the costume, didn't he? Did anyone else get maimed?"

"Nope," Doogie replied. "Just him. Also very lore-compliant."

"Okay, he's free, guys, hold on," Biz finally said. The Uruk felt the release of his wrists and began to struggle. Being behind him, Biz couldn't get his visual attention, and she was still a little too sore about the bite to be _too_ touchy-feely with him just yet, but this was going to suck and take a long time to stop sucking if she didn't... suck it up. Sighing, she stroked his cheek and let her thumb run lightly down the back of his pointed ear. "Settle down, now," she said resignedly.

A completely unexpected dissolve occurred when she caressed his ear. A _lengthy_ moan of obvious pleasure poured out of him and his back seemed to go boneless as he slumped forward.

"Way to go, Biz," Rich said sarcastically. "He is now sporting so much wood we could build a fucking log cabin out of him."

"Like it's _my_ fault!" she snapped, wrestling the Uruk's head into the t-shirt.

"You know, the poor bastard's traumatized," Rich continued with a smirk. "How about dragging that boob pillow over?"

"How about shoving this... this...," she snarled, casting about for a suitably large and somewhat phallic-shaped object. Giving up, she settled on, "This _suitcase_ up your ass!"

"Come on, Rich," Doogie admonished, working the Uruk's limp arm through the shirt sleeve. It was amazing; he'd actually gone completely jell-o with one ear-stroke. "Weird though, right? Are Orcs part Ferengi or something?"

"Ooo," Rich teased as he pulled the Uruk's other arm through. "Be gentle with those lobes, Biz. Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I promise to bury my fist in your crotch," she growled, reaching for the Spanks bag. "I'll definitely keep _that_ one!"

Muttering under her breath, she pulled the bondage kit out of the bag and started ripping at the packaging. Rich's eyes widened for a second, then he nearly fell over backwards laughing.

"No fucking _way_!" he managed to say through the choking laughter.

"Shut. Up," Biz replied with cool dignity. "Pull his arm back, dumbass, so I can get this on him."

"Go easy on her, dude," Doogie tittered. "She's not an experienced shopper."

"Oh, I'd say she got exactly what she was looking for," Rich snickered. Picking up the discarded lubricant, he almost lost it again. "Biz, Biz... cherry-flavored? Everyone knows strawberry's hotter."

"Careful, or you'll find it in your luggage when you get home," she snapped.

"Better keep it," he advised as soberly as he could. "Something tells me he's into the rough stuff."

Rolling her eyes at Rich, she looked at the wrist cuffs and sagged. "Dude, I am _so_ sorry for making you look like a trussed up whore."

Doogie chuckled. "Heh. What's he got to compare it to, huh? Maybe he likes pink; you never know."

"Not judging by the look he gave me just now," she replied ruefully. He'd looked pretty damned disgusted and horrified by the things when he glanced over his shoulder to see what she was doing.

"Like you can tell?" Rich grumbled, sitting back against the bed frame. "Ever since he showed up, he's had that scowl on his face."

"I doubt it even registers as better or worse than anything else he's having to deal with," Doogie pointed out. Leaning around, he gave the restraints an experimental tug. "These are pretty secure. I'm thinking only a safety word'll get you out of them. Nicely done."

Blushing, Biz said, "I wanted to just get the cuffs, but they only had them in kits. The... proprietor guaranteed their efficacy," she added with cobbled-together dignity.

Rich snorted. "I would give my left nut to see that guy's face when you told him what you were looking for." Biz spared him a sour look, then turned back to the Uruk.

Sighing, Biz reached out and laid her hand on his shoulder, lightly stroking with her thumb. The Uruk stiffened for a moment and shot a look behind him, but didn't try to bite her this time. Though it had to be uncomfortable craning his neck like that, he fixed her with another one of his 'special looks' that damn near made her feel a draft around her nethers.

The thing was, she couldn't be sure he actually had those sorts of thoughts going through his head. His gaze was intense, but could simply be predatory, not... clothes-shreddingly invasive. And since she couldn't swear in a court of law that she _hadn't..._ occasionally... sometimes... once in a great while... not like it was a _habit_ or anything... imagined some pretty kinky fantasies involving Orcs, it was quite possible her reaction to his look was entirely her own.

 _Bad Biz_ , she scolded herself crossly.

"I just feel so incredibly sorry for him," she said out loud. "I wish I could _tell_ him... something. Did you guys even _try_ to teach him words?"

Rich raised a sarcastic eyebrow, and Doogie said, "If he was taking notes, he can offend any cable television censor on the planet, but no, we didn't make a special effort."

"How about his name?" she said. "Did you try for that at least?"

"God, we weren't trying to make friends with him," Rich moaned, leaning his head back and rubbing his face wearily. "Go check out the bathtub. The maid service is gonna call the fucking _cops_ on us."

"It didn't even come up," Doogie said with a yawn. "By the time we got him out of the shower, nobody gave a crap what his name is."

"Todd wants to call him Fuckface," Rich muttered helpfully. "I seconded the motion."

Composing herself, Biz carefully said, "Thanks, guys. You're real... troopers."

"Don't mention it," Rich murmured.

Sighing, she stood and stepped around to face the Uruk, then knelt. His eyes, though hooded with fatigue, were still on her. He looked so close to the edge, one little push would send him into a deep sleep, yet he fought it hard. She wanted so badly to tell him it was okay, he was safe with them... Well, now that the Shower of Horrors was over, he was.

He perked up a little bit when he registered that she was looking at him, and she smiled encouragingly. Placing her hand on her chest, she said, "Biz." Then she reached out and lightly touched his chest, waiting for him to respond.

Though the Uruk had undoubtedly heard the word many times over the last several hours, it took a few moments to comprehend its meaning now. Blinking at her, he frowned.

Patiently, she repeated, "Biz." Then pressed her fingers to his chest again.

He hesitated, seemingly unsure, then finally growled quietly, "Dargum."

Biz smiled warmly. "Dargum," she said, testing the name on her tongue.

An interesting transformation came to the Uruk's face. His forehead smoothed a bit, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. His eyes didn't seem quite so... dangerous.

Grinning wider, she patted his chest. "Dargum." Then she patted her own. "Biz."

Dargum's expression softened even more, and his deep voice rumbled, "Biz," lingering for a second or two on the last letter so it buzzed in his mouth.

 _And we're back to tearing my clothes off with his eyes_ , she thought to herself. Clearing her throat uncomfortably, she reached over and smacked Rich's chest. "Rich," she told the Uruk, jarring the man awake from his doze.

"Hey!" Rich cried indignantly. "Thought you were done here."

A low grunting sound came from Dargum, and Biz realized he was chuckling. That was encouraging; not only was he relaxing enough to find a sense of humor, he was exercising it at Rich's expense. She had a feeling she'd get along fine with Dargum.

"And this is Doogie," she finished, shoving the paramedic lightly.

"No hard feelings, I hope," Doogie said wryly to the Uruk.

Pointing out the other two comatose men, Biz said, "Alex. Todd."

"Bizzzz," Dargum rumbled again, his lips curling in a leer.

Giving him an admonishing look, she held up a finger near his face. "Bad Dargum. _Naughty_ Dargum."

Drowsy and apparently unmoved, his eyelids hung heavy as he replied, "Bad Biz." Then he licked his sharp teeth.

"Sure you don't want that lube?" Rich asked innocently.


	4. Interlude: Let Sleeping Geeks Lie

Bertie leaned against the wall opposite the 'crime scene,' wondering if the cops crawling all over it were going batshit crazy about that mess of goop because they hadn't had a good street gunning to occupy them in at least a month. He had to say that the dweebs and idjits that congregated here every few months for one dork con or another tended to be rather peaceful sorts, if a little... odd. Didn't really give the cops something fun to jazz up their nights. They sure fucked up Bertie's nights, though.

Take this mess, for instance. Bertie managed the nightly cleanup of the convention center and was just doing his rounds before the doors officially opened on the new day when he found it. Didn't think much of it, other than to wonder what sort of shit it was and if he'd need a solvent to get it out of the carpet. And maybe curse the hides of the kids that left it there. What, you think your Harry Potter fella comes around every morning and waves his wand, you little bastards?

So he called his boss to complain. They oughta put up signs, for fuck's sake, you know? You make the mess, you fucking clean it up. Or maybe you don't make the mess at all, is that so much to ask?

Boss comes down and gets this weird look on his face, like a 'what the fuck' with a healthy amount of 'I've seen shit like this on TV' mixed in. It was _Randy_ who called the damn cops. Bertie would have just thrown a tarp over it until after the con to keep the kids from tracking it all over. There was already a trail of it going down the hall. _More_ shit to clean up.

A beat cop showed up to 'assess the situation.' He swished his finger in the goop and actually _tasted_ it, the weirdo. Got a really funny look on his face and hauled out his phone. Called for _backup_. And a _forensics_ team. Then he drilled the hell out of Bertie for a half hour, like _he_ knew a god damn thing about it or something.

_No, I ain't seen nothin' like it before._

_Don't know what it is, sir._

_Looks like wet tar, you ask me._

_All right, real watery tar. Whatever._

_No, I didn't stick my hand in it. You wanna play in shit like that, you be my guest._

_Look, all I do is muck up after a load of degenerates every night. You think this is bad, you shoulda seen the Men's room on the second floor._

In came an army of cops and suits, roping the whole corridor off, and scraping the shit off the floor into little round dishes. Someone noticed the security camera in the ceiling and ran off to see the guard who was on night duty. The trail of black shit led one of them right to the exit door and a pair of part time security guards who'd been on that exit all night.

Since nobody chased Bertie off, he sidled up to the group to listen in. It sounded just like a cheesy cop show investigation.

_Did you see anything unusual last night? Any strange people?_

_You're kiddin' me, right?_

_Anyone without a reason to be here?_

_I wasn't checkin' their papers, if that's what you're askin'._

_Did you see anyone... with... this black substance on them?_

_Well, yeah, but we didn't know what it was. It was running down this guy's leg. Part of the costume? Hell if I know._

_Was he alone?_

_No, he had a bunch of others with him._

_A hot chick, too. Don't see them too often at these things._

_Yeah, hot chick with tits out to he-..._

_Just answer the question. Did they seem to be in a hurry?_

_A bit, yeah. Probably... I don't know... had to turn him in or some shit._

_What?_

_You know... because... they captured him... or something. Wasn't that what the chick said?_

_I think so. Hey, I just remembered... All of'em had badges except the one who was tied up..._

_Tied up? What do you mean?_

_They said they had some kind of... capture the captain or... whatever. Some kind of horse shit like that. They had this guy trussed up, hands behind his back, ankles hobbled..._

_The one with the black stuff on him?_

_Well, yeah. Sort of... looked a bit... roughed up, too._

_Can you describe the man?_

_Fuckin' ugly as shit. Dark skin, **real** dark, like black. Scars all over his face. Fangs and shit. Smelled **real** bad. Now granted, kids that come to these things don't really bathe like they oughta, if you know what I mean. **This** guy smelled like he rolled in **shit**._

_Did you see where they went?_

_Yeah, just... you know, took off down the street. Didn't really pay much attention. Just real glad the shit smell had gone away. Trust me, buddy, the sooner stupid kids like them get outta your face with their weird chatter, the happier you are._

After a bit, a suit came down from the security room with a handful of those flash drive things, probably loaded with digital video of what went on in the corridor last night. Bertie edged over to a couple of the suits whispering frantically, and frowned.

_I went a few hundred feet down the sidewalk and the droplets ran out. Just got smaller and fewer until they stopped altogether._

_What do you think it is?_

_If this stuff wasn't black... I'd **swear** it was blood._


	5. In Which Boobs Are Frequently Mentioned... Cause They're Guys

_Minimum wage! Hyah!_

Dargum shot awake as if he'd been kicked by a horse. The words were unknown, but the sound of a whip-crack was all too familiar. His eyes darted about, looking for the one who meant to strike him.

It took several moments for him to calm his breathing and take in his surroundings, and to _remember_.

Whiteskins. Four males and a female. They brought him here and, for some reason he couldn't fathom, tended his wound. The males washed him, for which he grudgingly harbored vague and wholly unfamiliar gratitude. The female...

Ah, the female. Just thinking about her soothed his racing heart and quelled his rising panic. The way she looked, the way she smelled, her touch, her voice... Biz. She called herself Biz. He even liked the sound of her name, how it vibrated his tongue to say it. And the way she said _his_ name, not in barking command or reproach, but with warmth and acceptance. Her grey eyes were so completely fearless, but not in a way that told him he was nothing worth fearing.

He shook his head sharply to clear it of those thoughts. Where were they coming from? Such fancy had never found a home in his mind. But then, neither had he thought so much, either. Perhaps his Master's Voice was louder than his own thoughts. Or perhaps he was thinking for himself...

Quite suddenly, Biz was crouching in front of him with a questioning look on her smooth, pale face. She said a word and rubbed her belly, her expression inviting, urging a response. He frowned, uncomprehending.

Rather than anger, her face showed frustration. She held her fingers to her mouth and opened it, miming putting something in...

Oh. Eating. She was asking if he wanted to eat. As if reminded of its need, his stomach growled like an angry warg. Yes, he was starving. He'd left Isengard with little more than a day's ration in his haversack, lost somewhere in the battle now. It wasn't even anything worth keeping; just a crust of stale bread. It was assumed they'd feast upon Man-flesh when they took the fortress. If they did not prevail, it hardly mattered what they carried with them, did it?

An unexpected pang of remorse hit him, and he looked away. All of his brothers... what happened? Had they won? He still had no answers, but it was beginning to dawn on him that he was no longer in the same place. Perhaps not even the same _time_. He'd seen so little that was familiar: even the air was different. He had no choice but to accept the possibility that the battle at the fortress may have happened long ago.

So long ago, Orcs were no longer feared. Perhaps they were no longer _known_.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing from the unexpected pain of that revelation. Then he felt a soft hand on his cheek, gently lifting him up. Her eyes were sympathetic, as though she somehow knew his thoughts, and felt sadness for his pain.

She whispered the word again, and he nodded. Yes, he was... hungry. Very hungry. But not just for food.

* * *

"I think," Biz mused half to herself, "he just got hit by the clue bus."

"How's that?" Todd asked as Doogie checked on his bite wound again.

"Well, he just looks really... sad, I guess," she explained. "Look at it from his perspective..."

"I'm guessing his perspective is that A, you've got tits," Rich yawned as he stretched, "B, every time he turns around, you've got your hands all over him, so _yay_ , and C, you've got tits."

"You said 'tits' twice," Alex observed.

"Tits are awesome," Rich replied. "They bear repeating."

"If I had the power to manage it," Biz snarled with annoyance, "you'd go the rest of your life with only your own tits to entertain you."

"Guess you'd better get them implants, boy-o," Doogie chuckled. "Okay, next patient." Rising, he went to the other end of the room where the Orc sat watching them all warily. His arms were still bound behind him, his ankles tied. At the EMT's approach, he tensed and glared distrustingly. "Hey," Doogie said soothingly, "I'm just having a look. See how you're healing, okay?"

"You want Biz's tits over there?" Rich asked helpfully.

"No, I think he can go a minute without them, thanks for asking," Doogie replied with annoyance.

"Okay, if my tits are so incredibly fantastic, why is he sad?" Biz asked, rounding on Rich.

"Two reasons," he explained easily, holding up his fingers. "One, he can't see them, and two, he can't touch them. Many have chosen death rather than endure such torments." Winking, he grabbed a change of clothes from various random locations around the room, and retired to the shower.

"One, two, three...," Todd counted quietly.

"What the fuck happened to my shampoo?" Rich bellowed, storming out of the bathroom.

"Funny thing," Alex said thoughtfully, leaning back in the puffy chair and steepling his fingers, elbows on the armrests. "That wondrous hair tonic of yours works _amazingly_ well as a tub cleaner."

"I guess you get flowery hair stink, then," Todd added with a snicker.

"I brought the hyacinth-scented just for you," Biz offered helpfully.

"I hate _all_ of you people," Rich growled, and slammed the bathroom door.

"Baby," Biz muttered.

"Whoa," Doogie suddenly said, and everyone looked over to where he was kneeling next to the Orc.

"Problems?" Alex asked with a frown.

"He's almost healed," the EMT said quietly. "Like, I could take these stitches out, and there's enough regrowth of the skin over his wound that it wouldn't reopen." He shook his head in wonder. "Never seen anything like it."

"So... this is... weird?" Todd said hesitantly, leaning forward.

"Real weird," Doogie nodded. "He's looking a hell of a lot better, too." Furrowing his brow and searching the Orc's still-hostile face, he murmured, "What the hell _are_ you?"

The bewildered silence was broken by a knock on the door, and Biz dodged piles of geeks on her way to open it. A bellhop-looking guy with a rolling rack of various trays was delivering room service.

"Holy crap, thank the hell out of _you_ ," Biz breathed, taking the first tray of awesome-smelling food over to the table. Alex hopped up to grab the second tray before the hotel employee could enter the room; though the Orc was on the floor around the corner, hidden from view, he would rather avoid any uncomfortable questions before he had some coffee.

Normally, hotel rooms had an ample supply and a little coffee machine available for the guests. This hotel chain obviously hadn't counted on the high consumption rate of Biz and Rich.

Once the dishes had been sorted, Biz took a plate of sausages – the only thing she could think of that Dargum would likely want to eat – and cut them in bite-sized pieces. As she worked, Rich emerged from the bathroom dressed only in jeans, his hair damp and spikey. Biz smirked as a waft of hyacinth floated past her.

"Thank god: _food_ ," Rich said approvingly as he rummaged for a shirt. "I hope our long association resulted in two eggs, over hard, with white toast."

"Nope," Todd said, glancing at the plate ordered for Rich. "Looks like one over easy, real runny, and pumpernickel. I'm guessing the 'tit' jokes got to someone."

"Please tell me you developed a gluten allergy," Biz grumbled as she took the plate of sausage pieces to the Orc. He nearly came off the floor in his eagerness once he saw what she had.

"Easy," Doogie warned, putting a restraining hand on the Orc's shoulder. "Better use the fork so he doesn't bite you."

"Like I want to give him another opportunity," Biz replied. Spearing a piece, she approached his near-slavering mouth with the morsel.

"This is the plane, going into the hangar," Doogie murmured automatically, then grinned at Biz's reproachful glare. "Just don't nurse him, okay? Rich'll never let you live it down."

"One day," Biz growled in an undertone, "I will be blessed with the sudden maturing of my friends. I anticipate that on that day, there will be fewer references made to my breasts."

"Not likely to happen," Doogie replied easily. "I mean, we'll probably get older, but there's no amount of maturity that'll make us stop fondling boobies. Or talking about them. Or ogling them." Shrugging, he added, "Sorry."

Biz sighed. "It's just a silly dream I have."

"As long as you accept that, we'll be fine," Doogie said.

The Orc consumed the sausage with vigor; Biz could barely keep up with him. "Shit, does he even chew?" she wondered out loud. She caught sight of maybe two motions per mouthful that could pass for chewing before he'd swallowed and his mouth was open like a little bird's, anxious for more.

"You'll make a great mom," Doogie commented. "Little pieces like that... hell, _I_ probably wouldn't need to chew, either. He probably thinks you just want to prolong this bonding moment with him." Snickering, he patted her shoulder and rose. "Sounds like the boys are having a planning session; that can't be good."

"Break it up, will you?" she asked, trying to suppress the automatic blush his suggestion inspired. Did the Orc think she was coming on to him? Crap. Something perfectly innocent... One look in those eyes told her all she needed to know, though – if looks could strip, she'd be naked and on her back in a heartbeat, covered in Orc. Shivering at the thought... but shockingly not _repulsed_ by it, for crying out loud, Biz set the empty plate aside and regarded him.

Dargum seemed to be looking at her with all his senses on alert. She could see his nostrils quivering a little, and was pretty sure he wasn't interested in Rich's lovely smell. His eyes were focused on hers for a few minutes, just intently looking right into the heart of her, it seemed, then they began to roam. A little smile quirked his mouth as he drank in the contours of her body, tilting his head from side to side slowly as he unabashedly checked her out.

If his eyes were hands, Biz would have to press charges.

"Um...," she ventured cautiously, and his eyes flicked back up to hers. "Bad Dargum," she admonished.

He grinned. "Bad Bizzzzz," he buzzed, looking quite like he was savoring her name more than he did the meat.

For the first time, she found herself searching her thoughts for Eric. Where was that damn man? Shouldn't her relationship with him be chasing away all these _feelings_ that were falling over themselves to take control? Was her commitment to him so cheap and loose, so easily cast aside? Biz shouldn't be responding to the Orc, certainly not feeling ripples and flutters whenever he looked at her _in that way_ , the kind of way that promised raunchy, vigorous, sweaty, likely bondage-laden, kinky sex.

No. She was Eric's girlfriend. Significant other. Lover. Friend. She wasn't some kind of whoring fangirl. No. Not at all. Except... not once in the last few years with Eric had she felt like _this_.

"You'll have to ask Biz," Doogie said, and she shook herself. "This has 'multiple arrests' and 'assault and battery' written all over it."

"What?" she said, tearing herself away from the alarmingly enticing Orc to join the others.

Sighing and shaking his head, Doogie said, "Rich here wants to parade Dargum around the con. Thinks it'll be 'awesome.'" Biz's eyes shot open wide.

"Are you _nuts_?"

"Come on!" Rich urged. "I didn't say, 'set him loose.' We'd be there, keeping him out of trouble. What's it gonna hurt?"

Closing her eyes and counting to ten, Biz said slowly, "He's an _Orc_ , dickhead. This whole _place_ probably gives him the major willies. We can't explain _shit_ to him. Like the incredibly important concept of _costumes_. He probably thought _I_ was an Orc when he first saw me, because I was frickin' _green_."

Chuckling at the thought, Rich suddenly sobered. "Oh. Is that why he freaked about the bathroom?"

" _Yeah_ ," Biz snapped sarcastically, " _probably_. He probably thought something god-awful in that room sucks the Orc out of you, and figured he was next."

"Well, we did take a few layers of Orc off him," Alex suggested with a shrug. "I don't miss them. Do you?"

Todd shook his head. "Nope. Here: put this on him. Nobody'll be the wiser." He grabbed a green shirt off a nearby pile and tossed it to Biz.

"Nice," she snarled. "This one's mine. I'm a third his size. Way to go. And _this_ isn't funny!" she cried, waving the _Kiss me, I'm Orkish_ shirt at him angrily.

"Look, everyone'll think he's just really excited about his makeup," Alex said soothingly. "The contest was yesterday, so he doesn't have to wear the full getup, but you have to admit, he puts Weta to shame. I mean really, _look at him_ , huh? Wish we'd gotten him earlier; we could've buried that _Lord of the Rings_ group in the finals."

"I can't believe this," Biz said incredulously. "You're all on his side, aren't you? You're going to take this poor guy into the con, and scare the bejesus out of him. Because _Rich_ thought it would be a good idea." Pausing for a moment, she eyed each of them in turn. "What part of that sentence sounds _wrong_ to you?"

"He'll be _fine_ if you're there," Rich wheedled. "He doesn't need to be told stuff; he just needs some Special Handling. Like, in a lot of intimate places." He grinned broadly and waggled his eyebrows.

"And I suppose if he has a panic attack, I'm to shove my boobs in his face, right?" she growled.

"Now you're getting it!" Rich crowed, thumping her shoulder. "Way to be a team player."

"Die, Rich," Biz muttered.

* * *

In the end, Biz was out-voted. Dressed in a pair of Alex's jeans and the shirt she bought him, along with some extra sneakers of Doogie's because he had bigger feet than the rest and the Orc's claws made fitting a little awkward, Dargum made his way out of the hotel and back to the convention center surrounded by four people he didn't trust and one he couldn't get close enough to. To avoid uncomfortable questions and unwanted attention from security, they untied him, but all of them had a wary eye on the Orc.

There was little to worry about. The center was not as populated as it was the day before, but it was still full of more people than the Orc had likely seen in one place his entire life. Biz watched his eyes flick around nervously and listened to his gasping breaths. He seemed on the verge of that panic attack she warned Rich about. She felt compelled to touch his arm frequently, just to divert his attention from the sights, the sounds, the smells...

"How's he doing?" Doogie asked as their progress took them into the main hall.

"Hanging in there," Biz replied. "At least nobody's really... _looking_ at him. Much." She gnawed her lip for a moment; she could see by the crease of his brow that he was on the edge. One little thing would send him into a frenzy. Luckily, most of the costumers from yesterday were in their street clothes and not sporting...

"Holy crap," Todd breathed. "Herd of Elves, ten o'clock." All eyes, except the yellow ones thankfully, darted in the indicated direction.

There were at least a dozen of them, all sporting variations on the Celeborn theme from the Peter Jackson movies. Long white-blond hair, flowing moss-green over shimmering white robes, silver bling at the neck and waist... And the ladies were mostly wearing Arwen knock-offs with a sword, like _that_ was canon or something, Biz thought witheringly.

"Okay, diversionary tactics," Biz whispered, urging the group to halt. "If they look like they're heading our way..."

"Too late," Alex observed. "Ooo, come'n get some, yuh wimpy fruitcake. This Orc'll ruin your hairdo and fuck up your manicure."

Dargum spotted the approaching Elves and stiffened, every inch of him exuding hostility. His hand went instinctively to his hip, but came up with nothing. Then he began to growl.

"God dammit," Biz hissed, and grabbed Dargum's arm.

"What ho, friends!" one of the wannabes announced as the troop of baboo-... Elves reached them. "Methinks you keep most unsavory company." Exchanging amused looks with his posse, he simpered, "Honor demands I seek satisfaction of any Enemy of my people."

"Sorry, he's spoken for," Rich said with mock sympathy. "He might not be too particular, but Biz'll whack you with her purse if you so much as look at his junk."

Trying not to laugh, Biz nodded. "Yeah. Just walk away, dude. This one's _mine_." Slipping an arm around Dargum's waist, she rested her head on his shoulder briefly and sighed.

"Not _that_ kind of satisfaction," the Elf-guy snapped indignantly. "Come on, guys." Muttering under his breath, he led his gang away. One of the Arwens openly ogled Dargum's form and grinned appreciatively on her way by. The Orc just blinked stupidly like a shellshock victim.

"Phew, that was close," Biz said with relief. Dargum's mouth hung open slightly, as though he couldn't believe what just happened. Giggling, she patted his chest. "Yeah, you got it goin' on, my boy. Even the Elleths want a piece of you."

"You'll notice she wasn't looking at his face," Todd pointed out as they resumed their perilous journey.

"Pfft," she snorted dismissively. "Like you guys ever look at a woman's face. What makes you think we're any different?"

"I'm shocked," Doogie said mildly. "To think all this time, I thought it was just shyness."

"Hate to break it to you," Biz said, shaking her head. "We're not looking at the floor because we're afraid to look you in the eye. We're examining your crotch and taking measurements. Sad but true."

* * *

As if the gaggle of Elves wasn't bad enough, further into the con they encountered three people in full Predator regalia, complete with shoulder-mounted plasma casters and combi-sticks. Only one of them wore a bio-mask; the other two had fully-animated, painstakingly detailed Yautja headpieces, the mandibles seemingly set to random chitter mode. Dargum took one look at them and almost fainted. He started to backpedal so fast, the geeks nearly fell over themselves to catch him before he bolted.

"Boobs! Stat!" Rich yelled as he bear-hugged the Orc and tried to lift him off his churning feet. No one knew what Dargum was bellowing at the top of his lungs as he struggled against them, but they were pretty sure it was Orcish for 'what the fuck is _that_?'

"All right, fun's over," Biz gasped once they'd dragged the panic-stricken Orc around the corner and out of sight. He was damn near hyperventillating. "Are you done now? Can we go?"

"Yeah," Rich nodded, dabbing at his split lip. Glancing at Alex who was doubled over and still groaning from the kick he received, Rich nodded again. "Yeah. That pretty much stopped being fun real quick."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyric: "Minimum Wage," by They Might Be Giants
> 
> A/N: Come on, who hasn't been woken up in a hotel room by your friends playing that one at max decibels? It can't just be me. Honestly.


End file.
